


Connor would probably light himself on fire to keep Hank warm

by taylor_tut



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Connor (Detroit: Become Human) Whump, Deviant Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Gen, Good Parent Hank Anderson, Hank Anderson & Connor Friendship, Parent Hank Anderson, Protective Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Protective Hank Anderson, Sickfic, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-26
Updated: 2018-09-26
Packaged: 2019-07-17 19:18:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16102109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taylor_tut/pseuds/taylor_tut
Summary: A request on my tumblr for Connor overheating in a cold setting. He tries to keep Hank warm in a freezing car and things go Bad.





	Connor would probably light himself on fire to keep Hank warm

Hank didn't drive during heavy snowstorms, not anymore. Not since Cole. It pained him to do it, knowing that Fowler would chew him out about it later and that the blanket of snowfall could take hours to subside, but he slowly pulled the car over on the side of the road and cut the engine off. 

"Lieutenant?" Connor asked, turning to face Hank in his seat. "Is everything alright?"

"Peachy," Hank bit, rubbing his hands together—the heat in his car didn't work for shit, so as soon as it had stopped constantly putting out warm air, the car had already begun to rapidly cool. "Just can't see shit in this stupid storm."

Connor nodded. "Would you prefer if I drove for a bit?" he asked, earning a glare. "I can see farther than you can," Connor explained in an attempt to placate, "and the map system in my head prevents me from losing the road."

"Not a chance, kid," Hank denied. "You might be able to see the road, but your maps are gonna be useless for avoiding hitting other cars, animals, or black ice."

"That's a fair assessment," Connor admitted. "We can wait it out, then." Hank pulled his coat a bit tighter around himself and leaned into the car door, hunching his posture inward to keep heat trapped. Damn it, he didn't even have the radio to listen to, and he shouldn't play on his phone to pass the time or else he could drain the battery and strand them here in case of emergency. He cracked one eye open. 

"Any chance you function as an iPod?" he asked, only half joking, but Connor didn't get the sarcasm and looked perplexed. 

"I could... sing?" he offered, which made Hank outright laugh. 

"God, no," he pleaded, "that's not happening." He shivered, and Connor took notice. 

"Would you like me to heat the car?" he offered, and Hank's eyes went wide. 

"You can DO that?" he asked, flabbergasted. Connor, though, looked a bit nervous in his reply.

"Well, it's not suggested for long periods of time, as it can place some stress on my systems, but sure, I am capable of functioning as a heating unit of sorts." 

"That'd be great," Hank said, changing his tone from irritable to now pleasantly surprised. "I'm freezing my balls off." Within seconds, he felt the car begin to fill with warmth, gentle and comforting. He sighed in relief, rubbed his hands together near Connor's torso. 

"Would you like to play a travel game?" Connor offered. Hank blinked in surprise. 

"A what?" he asked.

"A, er, a car game," Connor tried to explain. "In several of the movies you've shown me, humans play simple observational or linguistic games to pass time during long trips." He looked almost embarrassed now. "I don't know; I thought it would be..."

"Fun?" Hank provided, and Connor shrugged. 

"Stimulating, at the very least," he admitted, and Hank couldn't bring himself to say no to the stupid fucking puppy eyes. Sometimes it really was like working with a child, Connor so newly deviated.

"Alright, kid," Hank caved, "but I should warn you, I'm a reigning champion at I, Spy." 

 

After an hour and a half of playing, arguing, chatting, playing again, and arguing some more, Hank had decided that he'd had enough "stimulation" for a while and decided to nap against the side of the door for the duration of the stand-still. However, now, 45 minutes into that nap, he woke up sweating, sweltering in the heat of the car. Had it caught on fire?

He looked around and determined no; there was no smoke and no flame, so what could be putting off such intense heat?

"Connor, s'at you puttin' off all that heat?" he demanded roughly—he was always grumpy when he woke up. 

To Hank's surprise, Connor didn't say anything, just hummed indifferently. 

"Hey, I'm talking to you," Hank barked. "Turn the heat down." When all he got in response was another noncommittal grunt, his blood froze in his veins—rather than distracted, this one had sounded almost pained. 

"Connor?" he called tentatively, gently this time. He reached over to shake the android's shoudlers and recoiled at the intense heat pouring off him. "Oh, fuck me," he cursed, his hands flitting to Connor's pale face. Connor's eyes were closed, his LED flashing bright red, and his breathing was fast and overly-mechanical, whirring loudly.

"Connor, come on; wake up, son," he instructed calmly, patting Connor's cheek to rouse him. Upon getting no reaction, he cursed again, looked out the window of the car before opening the door, and exited, walking around to the passenger side to pull Connor out, too. He was heavy, but not overly so, no more than a human his size and possibly even a bit lighter. His whole body was hot, a puff of sticky air seemed to rise from him when Hank wrestled him out of the car and into a snowbank.

It was still snowing too hard to see. The cold air stung Hank's face, and his hands were already turning red as he shoveled snow on top of the overheating Connor, but he didn't care, didn't even really register the discomfort until Connor's eyes finally began to flutter open and his LED faded back to an orange-yellow. 

"Lieutenant Anderson?" he asked in a small, robotic sort of tone. Hank sighed in relief. 

"Jesus, fuck," he breathed, "you with me, kid?"

Connor nodded. "Why're we outside?"

"Because that little space heater stunt you pulled gave you a heat stroke," he snapped. Connor looked genuinely scolded, so Hank pulled back a little. "You overheated, Connor," he explained in more android-friendly terms, and that seemed to click.

"Oh," Connor said simply. "Lieutenant, it's too cold out here. You could become hypothermic."

"Don't you lecture me on safety," Hank snapped, but Connor's concern was starting to turn his LED red once more, so Hank threw his hands up in a dismissive gesture. "Fine," he caved, "I'll go back to the car. You stay in the snow until your core temperature is back to normal."

Connor shook his head. "But then I won't be able to heat the car," he objected, and Hank couldn't help but smile. 

"We'll be fine," he reassured. "The storm should pass soon, anyway. You just take care of you for a bit, okay?"

Before Connnor could argue, Hank stood and made his way back to the car, leaving Connor in the snow to stare up at the sky and wonder why a human would endure posisbly life-threatening conditions in order to save an android. Maybe Hank was just special.

 


End file.
